One in a Hundred
by messenger of home-baked pie
Summary: One-Shot. After playing with a broken time-turner, James is forced to re-try the same conversation with Lily Evans over, and over, and over again. The only way for him to break the loop? If somehow, he can get a kiss from her. Tasked with the impossible, James doesn't like his odds - they're one in a hundred.


It was on an otherwise unremarkable night, while students around them ate their dinner and traipsed in and out of the Great Hall, that James first saw the time-turner. It was in the hands of Sirius Black, handsome debonair and his best friend. Sirius was playing with it absentmindedly while chewing his food.

"Oi, Padfoot, what's that?"

Sirius looked at the golden trinket in his hands. "This? It's a broken time-turner. My Uncle Alphard owled it to me, for good luck, he said. I don't know, it's fun to play with."

James looked at it closely. "How do you know it's broken?"

"Uncle Al said so. I'm not even sure what they're supposed to look like when they're not broken."

After a moment, James shrugged and went back to his meal. "Pretty cool."

"Yeah," said Sirius. "You can have it, if you want."

He shook his head. "Nah. I'm alright."

Days passed and he would continue to see the time-turner in his friend's hands, glinting in the light as though winking at him, like it knew something he didn't. One day, at the end of a particularly unengaging class of Charms, Sirius got up from his desk and ran from the room, mentioning something about an appointment. This generally meant an appointment in a broom closet with one of Hogwarts' many giggly and admiring girls - at least when it came to one Sirius Black.

As the rest of his classmates packed up around him, James glanced at Sirius' desk and saw the time-turner sitting there, forgotten. Not thinking anything of it, James picked it up with the rest of his stuff and departed with his classmates. He would pass it back to his friend when he saw him next. It was cold to touch, light, its many twists and turns making it fun to fumble around with without paying any real attention to it.

James noticed Lily Evans, the girl of his dreams, the girl who he had asked out time and time again, who had rejected him time and time again, slip away from the rest of the class and sidle into an empty classroom, closing the door behind her.

James only realized his stomach had been doing backflips at the sight of her once her pale, pretty face disappeared behind the door. The effect she had on him, the way even the smallest flash of red in his peripheral vision could make him perk up and feel like he was flying hundreds of miles an hour on his broomstick, it just wasn't fair. How could he be blamed for making a fool of himself when she was so enchanting?

He moved away from his classmates, barely even registering what he was doing until he was standing by the door that he had seen those beautiful green eyes disappear behind.

Still not actively focussing on it, James' fingers probed the time-turner. His forefinger found a little nook underneath a clasp on the device, and he absentmindedly pulled on the nook while thinking aloud, prepping himself. "This is the one. Please, let this be the one." He closed his eyes, pictured her smile, her green eyes lighting up, and his heart swelled. He opened them and stared at the door again.

The little nook on the time-turner clicked into a different position, but James barely noticed it as he slipped the device into his pocket.

His heart thudded, his lips dry. The weight in his pocket sank. Nerves sprang up in his belly.

The door creaked when James opened it, loudly, and the sound fixed itself in James' mind.

Lily looked up from a desk in the middle of the empty classroom and narrowed her eyes. "Potter."

James grinned at her and entered the room, closing the door behind him. "Alright, Evans?"

"I was alright before you came in here."

He smirked. "Is that your own unique way of saying you're glad to see me?"

"No, it's a very obvious way of saying I'd rather _not_ be seeing you, Potter. Please leave."

"Ah, Evans," James said, striding forwards and sitting at the desk next to her, "where's the fun in simply doing as you ask?"

She looked at him with loathing written plain on her face. "I mean it, Potter. I'm trying to study."

"In an empty classroom? What's wrong with the library, or the Common Room?"

She looked at him pointedly. "Other people tend to bother me."

James laughed. "Evans, you are a funny one, aren't you?"

"I am told."

"Well then that's something we have in common," he said smoothly, leaning closer to her. "You know, Evans, we actually have many things in common. We're both smart, both brilliant. These days we both hate Snape, as I'm sure you'd agree he _well_ deserves-"

Suddenly, she seemed to have had enough. She slammed her palm onto the table and glared, her eyes dripping with venom. "Potter, leave or I will give you a detention."

Recoiling, slightly hurt by the clear intensity of her distaste for him, James stared for a moment. Slowly, he nodded, recognizing the point where he should simply stop. He got to his feet. "Er… Okay. I guess I'll talk to you later… "

She rolled her eyes. "Spare me the theatrics, Potter. While you're at it, spare me from 'talking to you later', too, if you please."

Downtrodden, James hung his head and walked to the door. He grasped the handle and looked back at her, as though in mourning. Maybe she would never change her mind about him. Maybe, all this time, it hadn't been a case of James trying to change her mind at all, but rather one of a damn fool simply making Lily Evans excessively angry day after day, year after year, for no reason whatsoever.

"Later, Evans."

He opened the door and stepped through the threshold.

His heart thudded, his lips dry. The weight in his pocket sank. Nerves sprang up in his belly.

The door creaked loudly when James opened it.

"Potter."

James jumped, looked around in confusion. He was back in the classroom. He could have _sworn_ he'd just walked out.

"Potter, what do you want?"

Had he imagined walking out, and just turned around on the spot? Merlin, he must be tired. "Oh, er, nothing," he said, rubbing his neck. Lily was looking at him with narrowed eyes. "I'm really sorry to bother you again."

She tilted her head. "Again?"

"Yeah. Y'know, turning around and- and coming back. You must think I'm just trying to annoy you." She nodded like that was obvious, waiting for him to get to the point. He sighed. "I've probably really ticked you off today, right?"

"Potter, we haven't spoken today."

"Um…" James waited for her to say _Just kidding!_ Or something of the sort. He was sure he must have been missing the joke. "I guess we haven't spoken today, if you, er, don't count our conversation thirty seconds ago."

She gave a sigh of frustration. "Potter, I'm not in the mood for this. Whatever this is. Can you just go, please?"

He nodded quickly. "Absolutely." He hesitated by the door, glanced back at her. She was looking at him, waiting, an unimpressed look on her face. He nodded to himself, and left the room.

The door creaked loudly when James opened it.

"Potter."

James was losing his mind. Lily looked at him, those same narrowed green eyes, that same tone. It was like déjà vu, except there was zero doubt in James' mind that this had happened before.

"Potter, what do you want?"

James ignored her. He turned back to the doorway, stared at the ground, the threshold. He thrust his arm out past the threshold, glanced back at Lily. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong with you? Finally lost your mind, Potter?"

"Nothing," James murmured to himself. He looked back at the threshold. Tentatively, he placed a foot outside the room. He glanced again at Lily. She was shaking her head.

"I shall take that as a yes."

"Still nothing." He leaned forward, through the doorway until-

The door creaked loudly when James opened it.

"Potter."

He stared hard at Lily. Her eyes were still narrowed. She looked at him, completely oblivious to the fact that they had done this three times already. As with those other times, she was quite clearly unimpressed.

"Potter, what do you want?"

Was he really losing his mind? How was this happening? What could possibly make time itself seem to withdraw and retreat, only for James, as if he-

He looked at his hand. Opened it. The time-turner. Oh, Merlin, it was the time-turner. Right? It had to be. Somehow, this broken time-turner was making this happen. But why? He'd never heard of someone being caught in a loop of time before.

"Is that… Potter, is that a time-turner?"

He looked up, like a child with their hand caught in the cookie jar. "No."

"Oh my God, that's a time-turner!" She got up, walked over to him. "How did you get this? Who gave it to you? Do you know how strict the laws around time travel are? Potter, if you don't have this with Ministry authorization, you could get into a _lot_-"

"Evans," he said, looking at her with pursed lips, "I'm assuming you know a thing or two about time-turners. Could I ask you a question?"

"You haven't answered any of mine yet. I want to know why-"

"Splendid. I knew I could count on you." She huffed and opened her mouth again, likely to curse him, but he continued before she could. "Evans, let's say the time-turner was broken."

"Oh, God."

"And let's say I was playing around with it…" She sat down, massaging her temples, looking at him with bleary eyes. "...and suddenly, it starts working again. But not in the way that it usually would. Why would it start working again, and how exactly would I stop it?"

She opened her mouth and watched him, at a loss for words. "I- Potter, what have you done?" He said nothing, waited, and she rubbed her eyes. "Well, time-turners run on magic, don't they? You can't break magic, you can only break the tools we use to control magic. In the same way that snapping a wand only affects the tool, not the magic. Now, I'm certainly no expert-"

"Nonsense."

She rolled her eyes. "-but as far as I know, there's only one thing you can break on a time-turner, and that's the time-keeping mechanic. Without that, it's quite literally just a ticking time bomb, isn't it? Time manipulation wrapped in metal."

"So why would it suddenly start working again? What's the trigger?"

She grimaced and shrugged, looking at the golden device in his hands. "Could be anything. I'd imagine it would come down to the person wielding the darn thing. It would certainly take some powerful magic to make it suddenly do something, though. Were you there when it started working again? Did you see what happened?"

He didn't even hesitate before lying. "No."

"Hmm, well then I'm not sure. Again, it would have to be really powerful magic."

He looked at her helplessly. "Like what?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Love? That's what Dumbledore always says."

He stared at her. "Love?"

"That's right."

Love. Did he… did he _love_ Lily Evans? He was seventeen! What could he possibly know about love? That was- that would be crazy.

"Potter, what's going on? You look like a ghost. Are you alright?"

"I love you," he blurted.

"_Excuse me?_"

Bugger. He hadn't intended for that to come out - but hearing it, saying it aloud, suddenly made it real. Made it click. He really loved her.

"What do you mean you _love_ me? What the bloody hell is wrong with you, Potter?"

So what did that mean? He was in a time loop. That much was clear. And it seemed he had kick-started this loop through love, as unrequited as it so clearly was. So if that feeling had started the loop... with that logic, there was a clear way out.

He stared at her. Her lips were moving. Sounds reached his ears but weren't processed in his brain. She looked angry.

So all he had to do was make Lily like him? Not love, surely not _love_. If that were the case, he'd be stuck in this loop for a long, long time. Granted, even making her like him would be a challenge in and of itself, if the fury on her face was anything to go by.

When this loop had started, before he'd opened the door, the way he'd felt for her had been what triggered this whole thing. With that in mind, if he could get her to feel even a _sliver_ of that towards himself, maybe he could escape from this. He'd longed for, and now _required_ a demonstration of her affection.

Something as simple as a kiss.

He bit his lip as he looked at her. Her pretty face, contorted by anger, green eyes alight with passionate loathing.

Easy enough, he thought dryly.

James turned, walked back to the doorway. This attempt was already beyond salvaging, but at least he knew what to do now.

"Potter, where do you think you're going?" He didn't answer, just stepped through the threshold. "Where the _f-_"

The door creaked and James walked back into the room.

"Pot-"

"Evans," James greeted cheerily, sitting at the desk next to her. She narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth, but he beat her to the punch. "You must be wondering what I'm doing here, right?"

She huffed. "Yes. What do you-"

"I'm here to admire the sheer radiance of your unparalleled beauty, my dear Lily Evans."

She stared.

He shook his head and got up. "Too much. That was bad, I know." She was still staring as he walked to the door and left the room and the door creaked loudly as he opened it.

"Potter."

He nodded. "Evans." He walked in and sat atop the desk in front of her, smiling. "Do you have a moment?"

She shrugged, looking bemused. "I suppose so. What is it?"

"Will you go out with me?"

She glared. "Get out."

"Yup," he said, jumping off the desk. "Fair enough."

He walked to the door and the world spun and the door creaked and he walked back in.

"Potter."

"Evans." He stood in front of her desk. "May I ask you a question?"

"Will you leave if I answer?"

"Oh, yes. Immediately."

"Then sure."

"Right. What would you say you're attracted to most about me?"

She gave him a look. "Get out, Potter."

"Come on, Evans, you said-"

"_Out_."

The door swung open and closed once more.

"Potter."

James nodded and didn't respond. He watched her mysteriously, hoping it with spark her curiousit-

"If you want to stand around looking like an idiot, would you mind doing it outside?"

Nodding quickly, James left the room again.

The door creaked as it opened.

"Potter."

"Go out with me, Evans."

"Get out, Potter."

The door creaked as it opened.

"Potter."

"_Please_ go out with me, Evans."

"Get out please, Potter."

With a sigh, he left again. What would it take, he asked himself, for him to not be a git around her?

On his twentieth try, he got closer. He asked her what her favorite color was, and she said green. He'd told her that was _his_ favorite color too, because of her beautiful green eyes. She'd wasted no time in saying, "Get out, Potter," to that. They seemed to be her favorite words.

His forty third attempt brought him closer still - he'd learned that Potions was her favorite subject.

"Urgh, I hate potions," he'd responded, before immediately regretting it.

Needless to say, she'd told him to leave.

When attempt number sixty came around, he reckoned he'd finally figured the whole thing out.

"Really?" he asked, laughing. "Your favorite Quidditch team is the _Harpies_?"

"Yeah," said Lily, laughing along with him. "Their Beater is my favorite player!"

"Which one, the ugly one or the fit one?"

Her smile died on her face.

He really _hadn't_ figured the whole thing out then.

By the time his ninetieth try approached, he'd learned a fair bit about her, chalked down purely to many, many failures. This would be the one. He was ready. James demonstrated the depth of all his newfound knowledge by walking in and, in a grand romantic gesture, telling her everything he'd learned about her, down to the brand of toothpaste she'd used that morning (which he'd learned on attempt number thirty five, one of his more informative endeavors). In turn, Lily had gotten _very_ creeped out. Probably because he'd recited the names of her full extended family.

So the nineties stacked up in his attempts. They were halfhearted attempts, as he felt the fight had now left him. He tried more and more different approaches, felt himself grow more and more disheartened, downtrodden. No matter what he did, no matter how much he knew about her, it made no difference at all.

And then came attempt number one hundred.

The door creaked when James opened it, and he meandered into the room, rubbing his eyes.

"Potter."

He sighed. "Hey, Evans."

"Everything alright?" she asked.

He eyed her weirdly. "Yeah."

"You just look tired."

"Well, it's been a long day."

She raised an eyebrow. "The day's barely begun, Potter. I don't know how you're going to make it through double Potions later."

James snorted, finding himself, for once in his life, actually wishing he was in double Potions. Anything to just get out of this damn room. He kicked a chair as he walked past and dropped himself into another chair, some ways away from where Lily sat. He lounged back, gazing at the desk in front of him miserably.

"Potter," said Lily, sounding concerned, "are you sure you're alright?"

"I said I'm _fine_."

He really wasn't in the mood for this anymore. While at the start of the day he would have killed to be locked in a room with Lily Evans with no end in sight, now he could say with absolute certainty that it wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

"Well, you don't look fine. If you're going to come in here and interrupt me, Potter, you can at least tell me why. There are plenty of other empty rooms in this castle."

He looked at her. "Well, I'm in _this _room. And believe me, I don't intend to bother you. So can you just move on? Go back to studying or whatever."

Lily looked at him, her eyes scrutinizing, and James turned back to scowl at the desk in front of him. Seconds passed, and he heard nothing from her. Eventually he looked back, and was surprised to see that she had heeded his words and indeed gone back to studying. There was a textbook on her desk, and she glanced at it and then back down at the parchment she was writing on furiously. It looked to be the Transfiguration homework.

James moved his gaze back to the desk in front of him and let out a small breath.

Now what?

His eyes wandered about the room. The blackboard was dusty, disused. He'd drawn on it a couple times throughout the day. It made him sneeze.

He'd sat at most of the desks in this classroom by now. The one he sat at now was his favorite. The chair was the most comfortable.

Sunlight poured into the room. It was bright outside, and the sky was a pleasant blue. He could hear a bird chirping. He hadn't yet stopped and listened to the birds. James wondered how many attempts it would take for him to memorize their calling patterns. Maybe he could do a duet with them, eventually.

The sound of a book snapping shut, and a sigh. "I can't just _move on_, Potter." A chair scraped, and suddenly Lily Evans was in front of him, her arms crossed. "Not when there is clearly something wrong. I'm not going to sit and ignore the fact that you've obviously been affected by something, so just tell me."

James could only look at her, her outline framed by the sun, her vibrant hair dispersing the monotony of the room's drab contents. She had no reason to worry for him and care that he was feeling down, and every reason to ignore him. He'd _given_ her every reason to ignore him, over the years. Yet here she was, infuriatingly perfect, nauseatingly caring. How had he not figured out he loved her before today?

"Is it exams?" she asked. "Classes? Are you getting stressed?"'

"I told you, Evans," he said stubbornly, "it's nothing."

"We've already established that saying-" she put on a deep voice, "_It's nothing, Evans_-" James snorted, "is not going to make me walk away. Now tell me. Did you get a detention?"

"A detention is not enough to put me in a bad mood, Evans."

"So you are in a bad mood," she said triumphantly.

"No, I- Look," he sighed, ran a frustrated hand through his hair, "I am in a good mood."

"Clearly."

"I'm happy, Evans."

"Yes. Happy people are notorious for glaring and sulking and snapping at people who ask them questions."

"I have not snapped at you," he snapped.

"Right."

"I've been quite polite, I feel."

"Okay."

"So I really think you should just drop it."

"Duly noted."

He nodded. "Good."

They were quiet for a few moments, and James knew that she had finally gotten the mes-

"Do you feel better now?"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake! Yes, Evans. I feel better now. Happy?"

She nodded, and smiled widely at him. "Yep!"

He nodded again. "Okay."

She bit her lip and hesitated.

"Don't."

"Potter."

"Don't do it."

"I just want to make absolutely sure that you're fine."

"Damn it."

"Seriously, Potter, all jokes aside. I want you to know that I'm always happy to listen if you have, well, things that you need to talk with someone about, and Black and Remus, and I suppose Peter, don't cut it for you. I know we don't have the friendliest relationship in the world, which is entirely your fault-

"I'd say ninety percent my fault," he mumbled.

"But I still care whether or not you're alright. And I'm a Prefect," she added as an afterthought. "I want you to feel like you can come to me if you have problems. Our personal issues aside, I still have a responsibility to you as a leader."

She was such an insufferably good person. James had to take a moment to gather his thoughts without blurting out his feelings. "While I appreciate that, Evans, because I do, there really is nothing to tell. I'm just tired."

After a pause, she gave one more nod. "Well, alright then." She looked around the room, hesitated, and then sat down at the nearest desk. Her books were still on the other desk across the room. "It's a peculiar feeling, being the one having to force _you_ into a grudging conversation."

James had to smile at that. "Not so fun, is it?"

"No, it isn't. You're quite stubborn, you know."

"So are you. I reckon we're just about equal parts stubborn."

"Not really," she said, "considering you gave up in the end."

He scowled. "Okay, so you're more stubborn than me. No need to be so smug about it."

"Smug? Potter, if it were a competition of smugness, you would have me beat before I could even try to compete with you."

"Thank you," he said smugly.

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "Between yourself and Black, it's no wonder Remus and Peter are so calm and well-mannered. You've monopolized all the ego and hubris available for one dormitory."

"It's a Pure-blood thing, I think. We're all rather bad eggs."

"Yes, I've noticed. Why is that, do you think?"

James shrugged. "Money. Priviledge. Power. It really enforces in you an instinctive belief that you're better than everyone else."

She bit her lip again, her eyes twinkling. "Yes, that sounds quite accurate."

"Oi," he said defensively. "There are far worse Pure-bloods out there than me, you know."

"Yes, Potter. I know what _Death Eaters_ are," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"I'm only saying, I reckon I've turned out alright, all things considered." He hesitated. "I don't talk about it a lot, not even with Sirius and the boys, but seeing as how you've so magnanimously offered your ears to me, and demonstrated how much you _care_-"

"Yeah, can I take that back?"

"Too late," he said with a smirk. "But honestly, I feel like I owe you at least a peek into my life, considering how much you asked for it. Although you won't be able to relate much. It's about being a Pure-blood."

"There's something about it that you don't like?"

"Plenty of things. I mean, obviously it's nice to have money, connections, luxury-"

"Birthright, a safety bubble, a comfy position at the top of our social hierarchy," Lily added.

"All those things," agreed James. "But, and I know this sounds incredibly whiny and spoiled-"

"Glad I didn't have to tell you."

"But there are some things that come with being a Pure-blood that really put a damper on the whole thing. The family names are old, you see, so it forces us to have to live up to all these rich histories - which is especially bad considering how many disgusting things you can find in these rich histories. Our legacy is terrible, and because we have the responsibility of maintaining those legacies, it's _very _easy to find ourselves becoming just as terrible. Prejudiced, and selfish, and superior. I'm lucky my family is one of the good ones, but it's all still a big part of our lives. So I've had to work to be better than all of that. _That's_ what I mean when I say I could have been a lot worse, Evans."

She looked fascinated. "That actually is quite interesting. And I agree with you. Half of Slytherin house, if not half of _magical society_, is living proof of your point. You could have been much worse, Potter. Congratulations."

James grinned at her. "Thanks."

"So that isn't something you talk about with Black and the others? About how these things can be hard?"

He made a face. "Sirius has his own family problems. And self-reflection isn't really something we do."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Just between us then, eh?"

He gave a wry smile. "I guess so."

"Well, I would offer you a similar story about my heritage as a Muggle-born in return, but it's all fairly self explanatory. There's a psychopath trying to kill us all."

"Yeah," James said with a grimace. "That certainly makes my story pale in comparison."

Lily laughed. "We're not competing for who has it worse, Potter."

"Yeah."

"But if we were, I would win. By a landslide."

He nodded. "Yeah."

"It's not even close."

"Well it might be a little close."

"Not even a little."

"Same ballpark, sort of."

"No."

"Almost equally bad."

"Nowhere near."

"Genocide and family drama," said James, weighing them up in his hands. "Same playing field."

Lily laughed. "Okay, you're joking."

"I'm deadly serious, Evans."

"You're joking, Potter. Even you wouldn't be that self-absorbed."

"I don't know," he said. "I wouldn't put it past myself."

She shook her head exasperatedly. "I suppose there's something to be admired in being your own biggest fan. It requires a certain sort of thickness, but it's impressive."

"So I'm admirable and impressive?"

"You missed the thick part."

"Well that makes no sense, Evans, because I'm not thick."

"Perhaps not academically. But in terms of overall thickness, you excel quite impressively." James made a face at that. Lily clicked her fingers suddenly. "You know who you would really love? My sister's fiancé."

"Vernon," said James, nodding.

"What?"

He froze. "What?"

"What did you just say?"

"Nothing."

"How do you know Vernon's name?"

James didn't answer immediately. He wondered what Lily would make of it if he said _time travel_. Eventually, he simply said, "I pay attention, Evans."

"Have I mentioned it before?" she asked, looking surprised.

"In passing."

"Oh… Well, I'm touched you remembered, Potter."

James gave a small smile. When he had demonstrated everything he knew about her on attempt number ninety, it hadn't gone down very well. And yet for some reason, it was being received quite differently now. What had changed?

"But yes, Vernon. I reckon the two of you would hit it off quite well." She was smirking, and James raised his eyebrows.

"I'm guessing you don't mean that as a compliment."

She shook her head, looking like she was stifling a giggle. "Not in the slightest."

In fact, everything about this _conversation_ was different. A part of him knew exactly why, too. He wasn't talking to her as James Potter, the louder-than-life prankster agonizing over trying to woo her. He was talking to her as James. Just James. And it was _nice_.

"Well," he said, "I'm going to take it as a compliment anyway, Lily."

He said her name casually, but he saw her lips twitch and her eyes flicker over his face.

"It wasn't a compliment, James," she said carefully, but smiling nonetheless.

He smiled back. Not with his usual lop-sided grin, but just a smile. Normal and pleasant. "I'm going to take it as one anyway. I imagine Vernon is charming? Good at Quidditch?"

"He couldn't be further from either of those things."

"Now that's unfair, Evans. He's a Muggle, right? So he's never even played Quidditch. For all we know, he's the next Ludo Bagman!"

Lily let out a short giggle. "Somehow I doubt that. I'm not entirely sure the broom would be able to lift him off the ground!"

James loved the sound of her laugh. "He's a large fellow, is he?"

"Quite," said Lily, nodding. "Is it awful of me to make fun of him? It is, isn't it?"

"That's just the dilemma, I reckon," said James, grinning. "Take it from someone who makes fun of people all the time. Everyone has something laughable about them. For some it might be physical, for others it might be more personable. Look at Sirius. I've heard girls say he has the looks of a Greek god, but have you seen him try to crunch numbers? He's dumb as bricks! Unlike me, his parents never sent him to kindergarten or the likes. He just came straight to Hogwarts without knowing what _fractions _are."

"Oh, my."

"We're all just a punchline waiting to happen, is what I've come to understand of the whole thing. Once you've made peace with that, everything else just falls into place."

"That's a beautiful way of looking at it."

"I think so too," he said approvingly. "So no, you're not awful, Lily. Especially not if this Vernon bloke is someone you don't like. Of course you can poke fun of him."

"I'm not entirely sure I should be taking moral advice from you."

"Listen, Lily. You can look at it as comeuppance. Why, I was in a similar dilemma with my Aunt Tilda. She comes to visit every couple years, along with the rest of the extended family."

"Is she fat too?"

"Please, that's my auntie, Lily. Have some respect."

"Sorry," she said, grinning like a naughty school child. James had never seen her have fun like this before. It was a side of her he hadn't known existed.

"But yes, she's enormous."

She snorted between giggles.

"Now, Auntie Tilda brought along one of her friends one year, when I was about eight. And this friend had a daughter, the same age as me. It's worth noting that at this time of my life, I thought all girls were disgusting."

"If only I had known the younger James," Lily said wistfully.

"Auntie Tilda," James said, giving the redhead a stern look, triggering her bright smile to widen, "thought it would be _funny_ to lock me in a room with the girl-"

"What was her name?"

He quirked a brow. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason. Continue."

"_Penelope_," he said, "was a real go-getter of an eight year old. She knew what she wanted, and she wasn't afraid to just take it."

"What a cow."

"Quite. So she tackled me, which wasn't great for my self-esteem, held me down, which was traumatizing, and planted one right on me. My first kiss."

"And what did you do?"

"When she broke off the kiss? I spat in her face."

Lily's jaw dropped. "James!"

"Consent is important," James said, grinning at her reaction. "No matter how many dishes I had to wash and apologies I had to make afterwards, I will never regret that. And so I've been calling Auntie Tilda rude names in my head ever since, and I don't feel the slightest bit bad about it."

"Well," she said, shaking her head at him, "that still beats my first kiss, if it makes you feel better."

"Lay it on me."

"That's exactly what happened, funnily enough." He raised an eyebrow. "I was ten, I think. Before I got my Hogwarts letter. I wanted to have my first kiss before secondary school, so me and a boy called Phillip organized to meet under a tree just outside the school, at the end of our last day."

"This Phillip sounds like bad news, if you ask me."

"Shut it, James. Anyway, the whole day I had built up expectations and gotten myself incredibly excited for it, reckoning that it would be the best moment of my life. So there I was, standing under the tree, wringing my hands nervously as I waited for him, and then he comes along, walking towards me like a prince from a fairy tale, and my heart was racing and I'd never been so nervous. He gets to me, takes those last few steps, and…"

"And?"

"And trips over right at the end. Headbutts me."

"Did you kiss?"

"Our lips met when he headbutted me, yes."

"Ouch."

"I lost one of my last baby teeth. My mouth was bleeding and I held my hands to my face and looked at him in a state of panic, and you know what he does?"

"What?"

"He stands there and _cries_. Doesn't help, doesn't apologize. Just cries. I had to comfort him with a bleeding mouth and blood on my hands, and he kept on sobbing. My mum picked me up and asked what I did to him."

"What did you tell her?"

"I told her we kissed. She looked at me and started laughing. Found it hilarious. Told our neighbours, told the teachers. She even told Hagrid, when he came to give me my letter."

"Every time I think your story is awful, you say something else and it gets worse."

"It just goes to show," she said with a sigh, "kisses are completely overrated."

"Unless it's with the right person," James said carefully, taking a breath, feeling his heart abruptly quicken. Now was the time. "Someone who likes you."

"Yeah?" she said, without seeming to think. "And where can I find that?"

"Right here."

She looked at him in surprise, and realization struck her face.

"I like you, Lily. This should hardly come as a surprise."

"You've always been asking me out," she said unsurely, "but today you've just seemed so different. I thought that maybe you had…"

"Things have changed," James said. "And you're right. I do feel different. But something that hasn't changed is the fact the I like you. I like everything about you. You're the most kind, caring person I've ever met. You're funny, talented, smart, and _brilliant_. How could I not like you?"

She looked speechless.

"That's without even mentioning how beautiful you are."

She was blushing. "James…"

"You are. Your eyes, your hair. Your smile," he grinned, "and your frown." She laughed softly. "The way you look at me when you're angry. The way you've been looking at me while you're happy."

There seemed to be a million little things spinning around in her eyes, gears turning and thoughts churning. Her eyes settled and twinkled at him once, a smile grew and she opened her mouth.

James spoke first. He remembered how well they worked when he wasn't trying to get her to like him, or kiss him. He'd realized, on attempt one hundred, that he'd much rather have the former than those last two things. "But I digress," he said suddenly, "I doubt very much that Vernon and I would get along. Arrogance and more arrogance don't go well together, if you ask me."

She blinked quickly, seeming to get whiplash from the sudden change. "You and Black somehow manage," she said, offering a fast smile as her face slowly returned to its normal color.

"That's a good point," he said, wearing a thoughtful expression. "Maybe Vernon and I will work out after all. When do you think we should meet?"

"I'll have to check with him. He has a very busy schedule, I'll have you know. Maybe I should owl my sister, Pet-"

"Petunia," said James, looking her in the eyes.

Lily faltered again. She hadn't stopped looking flustered. "You know her name."

"Like I said," James smiled a simple smile, "I pay attention."

"I never knew how much, though," she said quietly. "How… much do you know?"

"Plenty. Your favorite color is green, your favorite subject is Potions. You hate lilies, but you're quite partial to tulips. You love ice cream, and never really understood Pumpkin Juice. You want to be a Healer after Hogwarts, because you love to help. Your friends are important to you and you're loyal to a fault. You prefer sunrises to sunsets as you like to feel like you're waking up with the sky. The sound of the ocean reminds you of your childhood, because as a kid you-"

"Used to take holidays at our beach house in Scotland," she said softly. "James, you know all of that from paying attention?"

He smiled. "In a manner of speaking."

"I- I don't know what to say." She was looking at him in a new way, differently to how she'd ever looked at him before. The look on her face gave James hope, and he had to speak before he got too far ahead of himself.

"You don't need to say anything. I'll do all the talking until you're ready, eh? Now, you'll need to let Vernon know that we can't meet until term break. I'll grab a bite to eat with him, I think. Oh yes, I'm dead serious about this, Evans. You can come, too. I know a great place in London - it does fish and chips. Don't worry, I know you hate most seafood. I do remember you saying, though, that you have a weakness for battered fish. I can hardly blame you, the stuff is delicious. I promise you they cook it well, trust me, it can only be the very best for you, Lily. Now we'll need to book in advance-"

Her hand found the back of his neck and she pulled him in, and they kissed. He had a moment of being surprised before her lips, sweet and intoxicating, toppled all his pretences of self-control. One hand was quickly lost in her hair while his other hand reached the small of her back. She pulled him closer, her free hand on the side of his face, thumb brushing against his cheek, and James responded by deepening the kiss. His disbelief mixed with his exhilaration, fuelling the kiss on his end, and he was praying that it wasn't a dream, that it would never end.

She made a small satisfied noise and pulled away slightly. She looked into his eyes, green on hazel, and he saw the giddy smile on her face, the brightness and fresh affection in her eyes, and-

_Click._

He stopped moving. His pocket. The time-turner.

"What's wrong?" asked Lily, sounding a little breathless.

"I-" He knew. Somehow, he just knew he'd done it. "I need to check something."

He stood, dropped his hands from her frame. Walked slowly to the door without thinking to look back. James opened the door and, with deliberate, planted steps, entered the corridor. It felt like so long since he'd last really been in the corridor. It was the same as always, but had never looked so welcoming to him before.

James walked further, letting it sink in, taking in the mundane sights he hadn't seen in far too long. Fresh walls and doors and windows. He was out. He was finally out. He gave a small whoop, ecstatic and triumphant.

It surprised him when a small, delicate hand found his. Pulled his arm. The flash of red hair, the bit lip and wicked grin, and she led him back to the classroom. Her skin was warm on his, her grip tight, the promise of something constant. They shared identical grins as they entered the classroom once more.

The door creaked as it shut behind them, and this time it stayed that way for much longer than the space of a conversation.


End file.
